


let's take jesus off the dashboard, got enough on his mind

by orphan_account



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Drug Withdrawal, F/F, Genderbending, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: you always push and push and she never says no. brianna, goddess of fuck, always down for the fucking ride, her boney hands holding up your crown, your best friend, your worst enemy, cheap fuck, love of your fucking life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic parallel to my other fem!trent/marilyn fic('take another drag turn me to ashes) from fem!trent/tamara's POV

the first time you make love to brianna is in a cheap kitschy quasi art deco motel, you close your eyes and want to believe this is an energy exchange but you keep seeing her behind your eyes, she comes to you in pieces like one big gift that you unwrap with lips and teeth and fingers. you open your eyes and see her staring intently at you.

“brianna, please give me more.”

“anything, angel, anything you want.”

you always push and push and she never says no. brianna, goddess of fuck, always down for the fucking ride, her boney hands holding up your crown, your best friend, your worst enemy, cheap fuck, love of your fucking life.

the cheap neon lights shine in your eyes, so she doesn’t see you cry.

***

it’s 2am and you are eating cheap junk food and there is not a place you’d rather be. brianna looks at you like she’s drowning in your perfume and your jumbled up words and glinting eyes so you offer her a hand, letting a smile play on your lips as you take her to your messy bedroom and she falls to her knees, as if to confess.

and you let her. you let her place her mouth where it hurts, where it sings but all that adoration smothers you and you are nothing if not merciful so you make her lay on the bed and you tear into her, trying to find what makes her tick. your teeth bite and your nails scratch her skin and your fingers twist inside her until she looks at you and that stupid, misplaced adoration shines in her eyes, defiant so you try to make it and her fall apart. you only succeed in the latter, your angry neighbor banging on your door threatening to call the police.

“round two, bri? seems that asshole has fallen asleep.”

“come here, baby girl.”

***

“give me, just, give me." the words are not yet out of your mouth before you start vomiting, your throat on fire. there is nothing and no one that you need more than H now, not even brianna who holds your wrists as you go into a shaky, angry rage. you stop trashing because you can do anything to her, mold her and shape her like you want, push and push until it's too much, yet you can't hurt her.

your legs give out and she's calling 911 moments before she collapses down on the floor with you, brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead and pressing kisses all over your face. "we're going to beat this together."

and it's always been just you two hasn't it? as the sirens wail outside, the paramedics push into your room, you smile because even as your entire body screams with pain and your veins itch for some smack, brianna looks so beautiful, illuminated by the lights of the ambulance, the glass shattered against the floor. leave it to you to find beauty in the most grotesque of things.

"please let me come with her."

"m'am, are you immediate family?"

"i'm her girlfriend, please."

and you smile and smile and smile because you might be going through withdrawal and the paramedics speak in hushed voices- 'blood pressure too high, as is the fever, looks like her heart is about to give out'-but you're finally bound together, you finally give the late night cuddles and coffee dates and coked up sex a name.

***

'crossdressing bisexual satanist marilyn manson and her producer- lesbian god-hater tamara reznor are dating'; 'the duo are rumored satanic witches, frolicking naked at night and performing sex magick' are amongst many of the things that the right-wing religion obsessed media write about you two and you love making them tick when you let brianna give you passionate kisses in front of their cameras.

the times when brianna wakes up screaming are rarer and rarer until she sleeps like a baby in your arms, after a long day at the studio or a night spent rolling around in bed. the feeling that her father judges you every time brianna takes hold of your hand or kisses your cheek grudually disappears, especially after she gives you a wet, sloppy kiss in front of him and goes to the bathroom, leaving you at the table with hugh.

"look, i'm not saying i completely understand but just know that i'm glad you make brianna happy and i consider you my daughter."

brianna's bandmates are snickering at you in the studio and keep asking stupid questions but they also accept you, even though the jokes that brianna's your sugar baby do get annoying after awhile. they also act like highschoolers when you two randomly peck each other on the lips when working.

courtney is quite bitchy about it but not in a malicious way(which is weird), tori comes to congratulate you and brianna teases about how much you were crushing on her(not that anyone could blame you), fred durst surprisingly defends you against some other shitty nu-metal guy(he might not be so bad after all).

***

it's not all perfect but you'd rather have hard and imperfect with brianna than supposedly perfect with someone else.

sometimes the thoughts in your head get too much, they buzz uncomfortably in your head like painful static so you spend time alone in the studio. but you always, always go back to brianna, year after year pass and you still crave the end of each day, so you can crawl back into bed(your bed, just like it's your house, yours and your wife's).

"don't even think about putting your cold legs on me, reznor."

"get lily white out of here then."

"she's my precious daughter."

"she's a stupid cat who hates me and wants to scratch my eyes in my sleep."

"what are you going to do for me, mrs. oscar winner?"

"well, i was planning on making you fall apart, mrs. antichrist, but not while lucifer in cat form is here."

brianna takes the cat out in a hurry and nearly trips on her way back to bed which makes you laugh and makes her pout grumpily. "you're a real bitch sometimes, you know?"

you just take her in your arms and tangle your legs together, hugging her as she buries her head in your hair and your eyes water, lungs aching with love.

"come here, short stuff." she says softly and pushes you on your back, caressing the small of your back.

"not my fault you're a human beanstalk." she laughs, clearly and heartily which makes you wipe your eyes and pull her in for a kiss. your skin is slippery and feverish, it's getting too cramped up, the stupid cat is scratching on the door but it's home and you wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
